January 31st, I Died
by Mozu The Cookie Spirit
Summary: Birthdays are suppose to be happy moments. A memory that will last forever in your mind, a memory where people laugh, people enjoy. But Kuroko's birthday was different. It was filled with sorrow, dead bodies and an undying confession from the person he just murdered. Implied KuroAkaKuro at the end! Rated M for violence and deaths.


**A/N : OMG, it was Kuroko's birthday yesterday! No wonder I dreamt about him this morning. It wasn't pleasurable at all, he became a psycho just to kill me in my dream.**

**ANYWAY, Chinese New Year is going to be over soon. But gong xi fa cai though! *coughhackcough* anyone who received ang pow, give me lehh. . . It's 1Malaysia, we share mah.**

**WARNING : Rated M because of violence and psychotic-ness! Children below 6, don't you dare to read this or I'll gouge your eyes out. And a bit of OOC-ness, I guess.**

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January 31st, I Died

Silence. Dead silence.

Screw the decorations that had filled the space of the blue walls, or the birthday cake that had been half-eaten –or how the absence of any light source had swallowed them whole into a pitch black world.

. . . Nothing could change how silent it was.

Even I, Akashi Seijuurou; captain of Rakuzan and a son of wealthy family –couldn't change the tense atmosphere. Or more like I shouldn't. I just don't know anymore. . . My mind screwed up.

Really, you can't blame me for the darkness, for the stiffness, sound saved by my ragged breathing and how my nails would try to scratch the cloth that bound my hand, refusing to let me go, like how the culprit wanted to. Within struggling, I failed to notice a shard of glass that had been nearby all along –therefore –the tiny piece pierced through my skin. Heterochromia eyes widened, and I groaned; a strangled noise escaped abruptly from my lips.

What a wrong move to do. . .

Whoever it was, the person was rather cruel. Saying nothing, he or she pulled my red locks harshly, and banged my head against the wall with a loud thud. I don't know how harsh, but I could imagine the surface cracked.

"Nnghh. . .", my voice couldn't help but continued to moan and grumble helplessly. And that was where I thought; the most abhor situation –I am facing it in the current moment; being ineffectual.

Lost in thought, a flash of Tetsuya –out of the blue –appeared in my head. Instincts told me he was in danger. Well, you didn't know who the captor was, Tetsuya could be anywhere especially on the floor, sprawled and swimming in blood. Right instantly, adrenaline kicked in and my blood boiled. As hard as I can, my legs kicked the air, in spite of my lack of vision.

"Tetsuya. . . Tetsuya. . . where is he?", I asked, weak, but my voice held strength. Strength to, at least, I could save my beloved Tetsuya. . . or whatever. . .

Oh God, how wrong was I to think that?

My world shook, crumbled, left into tiny shards like the glass that seemed to rip my skin open. One second of darkness, and suddenly the room lit up by the bulb stuck on the ceiling.

There were two; good news and bad news –

Good news was; Tetsuya was safe. Safe, indeed. Without a scratch, after all.

Bad news was; the blunette –however – was the captor. . . and murderer.

Lying on the floor, were four people I knew best. Nearby, was Ryouta with both of his sunshine pools gouged out from the sockets. The location where his eyes were supposed to be were hollow, and thick, red liquid poured out from those two empty tunnels. It was like he was crying crimson. A part around his stomach laid a blade that pierced deeply –the gash was wide, like it had been ripped; the way you open the zip of your jacket –that how was it. Dazed, I could see his inner organs just from the wound. The blood doesn't disgust me, but his death did.

Beside him; Shintarou was sprawled with his front facing the linoleum. My throat felt tangy when I saw his back with so many blade wounds. And worst, at the back of his head –a knife pierced through and past the mouth it goes. With that, blood littered his garments that covered the corpse, and spluttered on the cold floor like paint on canvas.

Atsushi, however, was in a complicated situation. It seemed that Tetsuya had difficulty of killing him. True, there was bruises all over his arms and shirtless body –but they didn't looked like it came from the blue-head's fists. After all, it was impossible for him to beat the purplette, facing that he was a larger figure than Tetsuya. So, in conclusion, the bruises Atsushi received came from a chair –seeing that a broken furniture situated not far away. But what totally killed him, I presumed, was the large wood that had been stuck deep into his throat –which was puking blood.

Worst of all condition, was Daiki. Tied in a chair, the tanned male still had both hues opened. Wide but lifeless, and they looked shocked with a tinge of plead and regret. I could almost imagine the scene –how Daiki begged for his life. . . and where, at that moment; apologizing was one hundred percent futile.

.

.

.

"_Tetsu, I beg you!"_

.

.

.

"_It's too late, Aomine-kun. . ."_

.

.

.

_WHOOSH!_

.

.

.

"_Goodbye, Aomine-kun."_

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.

.

The thought itself was disgusting. Poor Daiki tied on the chair, his mouth gagged; and almost his inner organs were taken out. My eyes narrowed with distaste, by seeing the long intestines hanging from the low pit of his stomach, almost touching a metal bar not quite of a distance. And his legs. . . the gashes appeared on the two pair were the biggest. Slashed. Filthy by a pool of red akin to a gargoyle spitting water. The cut –it was as though Tetsuya was begging a _"Don't leave me!"_. Foremost, I did not fail to notice the obvious wound, soon going to be a scar, around his throat. It seemed that the neck had been slashed by the long, metallic cylinder. I shuddered at the thought.

And that was what entered my mind.

Teiko. . .

Everyone. . . we simply didn't care about Tetsuya anymore. At that time, selfish reasons were made. The victor created history and the weak were thrown out from legacy. But Tetsuya. . .

Tetsuya. . .

"Tetsuya. . .", I coughed weakly. Reasons unbeknownst, I felt weak. My brain empty, like a part of memory was missing. Hopelessly, my head whipped upwards to meet the blunette's gaze of wild sapphire. Gently, he smiled –but we all know it wasn't a smile of mere of comfort. . . That, itself, was a sign of death waiting upon my body.

Slowly, he approached me. Once close, the crazed blue-head sighed and caressed one of my cheek. Uncomfortable with the touch –plus, the blood that stained my pale skin –I simply gave him a glower. All he ever respond was another small smile. Just like the normal Tetsuya, if not for the glowing icy blue pools.

Another touch of my cheek, and he spoke softly, like nobody was meant to hear our conversation –"Does Akashi-kun enjoyed my birthday party?"

_Birthday. . .? Whose?_

"What are you talking abou –aah!", the male with lighter shade of his hair simply stabbed my right hand. The smile, now, had dissipated. Instead, it was replaced by an angry scowl.

That was the first time I, the great Akashi Seijuurou, ever felt fear.

"My, my. . ." he softly snickered, "Even you had forgot about me."

Another stab against my other hand, I shouted with all my might. "AAAHH! Tetsuya. . . wh-why?!" –that's where it clicked. Everything combined together, and it showed a theater in my head.

.

.

.

"_Ooh Kurokocchi, why is it so suddenly that you bring us to your home?", Ryouta spoke with his usual gleeful demeanor. Beside him, the shorter blunette said nothing but continued to open the lock that bound his house from thieves._

_A minute later, he replied to the blonde's question; "Nothing, I just want you guys to eat cake. . ."_

_It caught all of our attention._

"_Whose birthday?", Daiki's turn to ask._

I saw it. Yet, I chose to pay no heed. The way his shoulders stiffened upon the question stated by the tanned latter.

_Tetsuya whipped his head to meet our curious gaze; yellow, dark blue, purple, green and multi-coloured. "Nobody," was all he replied._

What fools were we to believe that. . .

_As we entered, the short blue-head immediately dashed towards the kitchen to grab some plates. We took our opportunity to look around his house. We were confused and curious –by means of no one's birthday, then why decorate the house with silly balloons and ribbons?_

_Ten minutes later, all of us sat on our respective chairs and had a piece of vanilla cake on a small plate. Atsushi, who cannot contained his urge, began to swallow everything in and began to beg for more. I began my meal, taking small bites. . . one –two –three –and out of a sudden, sleepiness took the whole of me. Neither could I see a thing anymore, not a glimpse of Tetsuya, not a moment of thought –instantly. . . everything turned dark._

_However, I took a chance to hear Tetsuya chuckling from afar –_

"_Happy birthday, Kuroko Tetsuya. . ."_

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.

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"AAHHHH, TETSUYA!"

The latter was torturing me. My body was burning with pain, and my visions turned white –as if I'm close to death already. Still, I did not give up.

"Tetsuya. . . I'm sorry. . . you. . . birthday –", I was getting tired. My voice was hoarse, but I paid no attention to it. Saving my life was more important.

The said blunette looked at me. Azure eyes, they were blank as usual. Sneering, Tetsuya pointed the kitchen knife closer to where my golden eye situated.

"No more," he whimpered quietly.

With the last hope, I parted my lips, whimpering when all of me hurt – "Tetsuya, I'm sorry – AAAAHHH!", he had stabbed me on the forearm. I tried again, "Tetsuya. . ."

"It's no use, Akashi-kun. You all had forgot about me," he exclaimed in a sad tone, "So I will, too."

Panicked, I tried speaking again. "No, Tetsuya! Listen. . . I need to say something!"

He looked at me in dismay. Even the icy blue that always been sparked with life had been dull, shadowed by insanity. Or simply speaking; Tetsuya, himself, had became insanity. The thought struck me horribly, and I was almost to the point of breaking down.

_It's too late. It's too late. It's too late. It's too late. It's too late. It's too late. It's too late. It's too late. It's too late. It's too late. It's too late. It's too late. It's too late. It's too late. It's too late. It's too late._

But I need to try.

Grumbling, my head tilted upwards with my eyes pooled with tears. It was not of regret, not of fear. No. . . It was the tears of pure, bliss hope. Shaky voice speaking, I tried to say the three words I often hope to achieve – confession.

"Tetsuya. . . I lov –"

_**WHOOOSH!**_

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January 31st, I died in the hands of a birthday boy. And the one I loved.

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"I love you, Akashi-kun."

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Tetsuya grinned.  
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"Now, you can be with me. . . forever. . ."

**END**

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**Akashi : Mozu, you're going to pay. . .**

**Cookie-chan : I'M INNOCENT! I'M INNOCENT!**

**Kuroko : When was I a yandere, Mozu-kun? *glares***

**Kise : MY EYES-SSU! YOU GOUGED MY EYES!**

**Aomine : Why do I have the worst death? What did I do?**

**Murasakibara : Ara, why am I dead?**

**Cookie-chan : FINE! LEMME EXPLAIN! Ehemm, Kuro-chan, you look good in yandere. Besides, I dream of you! Being creepy! It was so nice! *squeal* Daiki. . . you got the worst death cause you're an asshole. Ryou-kun, well. . . I like your eyes. I want'em. And Murasaki? It's good that you're dead so that you won't get fat.**

**Aomine, Kise, Mukkun : *wtf look***

**Cookie-chan : Kesesesesesese, it was all a dream, okay?! I dream of Kuro-chan! HE KILLED ME FOR FORGETTING HIS BIRTHDAY!**

**Aomine : Psh, serves you right!**

**Midorima : *looking helplessly from afar* Uhhh, review. . .**

**Takao : Don't worry, Shin-chan! I'll bring you to life with a condition of a forever marriage!**

**Midorima : Shut up!**


End file.
